Leader Of The Mafia {h.s}

056

Bree Tyler

I stabbed my homemade food harshly with the fork, making the plate erupt an annoying scrape. I was still mad at Harry about the itching powder in my bed incident, and he was still mad at me that I wrecked his stolen magazine with my stolen red nail polish.

I furrowed my brows at him as I saw him walk from the couch and to the kitchen sink, I sighed with a pout of my bottom lip. He was just pissing me off today.

"Why the hell are you looking at me like that?" He asked with a scoff when he saw my facial expression.

"I'm not looking at you." I lied through my teeth, now looking away from him.

I heard the familiar sounds of different types of bottles clanking when Harry opened the cabinet drawer. He pulled out a tall clear bottle of vodka, and an expensive name brand medium sized bottle of orange/brown colored cinnamon whiskey.

"Can you pour me some?" I asked, nudging my brow at the cinnamon whiskey.

"Wow, that over vodka?" Harry seemed surprised since vodka was usually my go-to and the only thing I ever really drank.

"I've had a long few days, maybe it's time to change it up a bit." I huffed, putting my hand on my chin.

Harry shrugged, grabbing a glass cup from the built in wooden cabinets. He placed the cup in front of me, pouring it semi halfway in the glass.

"Thanks." I said, almost mute and unheard.

"I can't here you..." he sing-songed, being the fucking tease that he is.

"Thanks." I raised my voice a ting louder, making him nod at me in satisfactory with a shit eating smirk.

I put the cup of cinnamon whiskey to my lips, taking a few long sips of the spicy drink before retreating. It was good, but didn't effect me in the good way vodka did.

"I thought you said you had stopped drinking?" Harry muttered.

"How'd you remember me telling you this?" I asked in shock.

I did stop drinking for a while, but the minute I got kidnapped by Harry, I started to drink all the time again.

"I just remember everything; don't feel special." He looked me up and down, sipping on his cinnamon whiskey. I rolled my eyes at him in pure disbelief and annoyance.

I chugged down the flavored whiskey, I didn't want anymore after I had finished the first glass.

"Not even going for a round two?" Harry asked in shock referring to the whiskey, as I was putting my cup under the sink so I could wash it out.

"No," I shook my head. "It's not that great."

I drizzled dish soap around the glass, taking a sponge (the yellow and green sponge was probably the most colorful thing in Harry's house) and scrubbing the glass clean. I put the glass on the drying rack, and dusted my hands before leaving the sink.

"I think I'm going to go to the club tonight." Harry muttered once I had sat back down on the barstool.

"Have fun with that.." I scoffed under my breath at my sarcasm.

"What? So you're not going to push or bribe me to take you with me?" He asked, since I usually always ask if I can go to the club with him.

"Nope." I shook my head, "I don't want to go with you."

"Why? You always have wanted to go to the club with me in the past?" He questioned with furrowed brows.